I'll Panic if I Bloody Want To
by domino.dice
Summary: A personal take on the crash landing of Ford Prefect on earth fifteen years before the setting of H2G2, and his meeting thereafter of Arthur. However did he get his infamous satchel? Note on the rating: If you've read the book, you'll be fine.


Note: Some people will resort to anything when bored. Or tired. Bored and/or tired. Yeah.

Conceived while eating oreos.

Disclaimer: Well, I own a copy of the book...

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the unfashionable end of the Western Spiral Arm of the Galaxy on a blue and green planet (which should be familiar by now) orbiting a small unregarded yellow sun stood a man, or someone with the semblance of a man, clenching a plain lavender towel tightly, livid with fury as he watched an untidy trail of smoke dissolve into the atmosphere. Somewhere in the back of his mind was a quiet voice telling him that he should have expected this, considering who it was and all, while somewhere else in the back of his mind, another voice came and bludgeoned it with a small bookshelf.

'Just like Zaphod to run off when he sees something shiny...' He muttered when the violence in his mind subsided, but not without a great deal of angelically-themed questions such as 'But why can't we just be friends-?'

He more reasonably decided to assess his current situation—once his sense came back into consciousness. There was a large area of green flora, sometimes sprinkled with blues and yellows, and running through it all for no apparent purpose was a long black... line far off into the distance that could not easily be made out. Long, flat, purposeless. It appeared to be fenced off, presumably so that the population of spotted quadrupeds present would not interfere with its purpose, whatever that was.

'Muuuuuhhh...' Moaned one of the spotted quadrupeds.

The bulk of his problems temporarily forgotten, the man approached one of them cautiously. He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around furiously, as though attempting to settle something further inside into a better position. 'I beg your pardon?' He said. 'I didn't quite catch that...'

'Muuuuuhhh...' Moaned another with a rather cross tone as though to say 'some people don't ever listen'.

'Oh.' Said the man, though he still didn't quite understand. 'Well, if you don't mind, I'll be having a look at this long...' He trailed off, then shrugged and left. Coming closer to the mystery black line, it appeared to be a path. It had smaller yellow lines on it though. Perhaps it was more of a road of some sort... for a special spotted quadruped perhaps? He'd have to think about that later.

Not far away was a large white sign posted into the scenery, with a fairly boring, flat image on it that wasn't at all exciting. A humanoid figure stood smiling the biggest, fakest smile he had ever seen while leaning against what could only have been a transport vehicle of some sort, only it was the most hideous scrap of yellow that his eyes had ever been forced to stare at for longer than thirty seconds. Letters were inscribed along the bottom of the whole thing, and as reluctant as he was to continue looking upon it, he thought it might have been of some importance. Far back in his mind, some part of him was fishing out another bookshelf.

Staring long enough, he could partly decipher the words. The lettering was similar enough to other alphabets—ones he knew fortunately, but most unfortunately the parts he could actually read made no sense whatsoever to him.

They said Ford Prefect.

Ford Prefect... they made no sense when he thought them. En route to the planet, he had picked up transmissions on long disused frequencies, and immediately stipulated that it was a primitive race indeed that inhabited the world.

He tried saying them aloud.

'Ford Prefect.' They still made no sense, not even to the fish in his ear. All at once, his mind suddenly agreed, and a small part of him dropped a bookshelf with the thought—it was likely a name. It certainly sounded similar to some of the names he had heard over the transmission. Well now that he saw it in this light, it made sudden sense. It sounded like a pretty ok name at that. He tested the words aloud again, but with a different intent.

'Ford Prefect.' He said it again. Then with a different pose. And once more, just to himself. He said it to a spotted quadruped.

'Ford Prefect would be a nicely inconspicuous name, don't you think?' He said excitedly, waving his towel at the sign in something like gratitude.

'Muuuuhhh...' Moaned the quadruped.

'Oh, I take it back. I don't care what you think.' He said. 'And I will keep not caring until you can give me a better name than that.' The quadruped was silent. The newly named Ford Prefect sniffed, and turned towards the path, intent on finding out where it led.

..........................................

PS- Thanks Rebus. Fixed up some stuff. Let me know if it's any better.


End file.
